


Freely

by princesszaf



Category: GOT7
Genre: M/M, Threesomes, a looooot of dirty talk and insinuations, and young adults being silly in general, panty kink??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:07:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4915372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesszaf/pseuds/princesszaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t care,” Bambam’s exhale is theatrical, grieved, yearning. There’s a twitch of amusement in Youngjae’s cheek but Yugyeom’s visibly concerned now, leaning forward. </p>
<p>“Why not, Bambam-ah?” Oh, Yugyeom. You really shouldn’t have.</p>
<p>“Jinyoung-hyung…his pants…they’re just so ridiculously tight today!” </p>
<p>[ basically an extremely self indulgent uni / coffee shop au ahaha bye ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> ok so this is chaptered fic so pls give me motivation in the form of cutesy comments and kudoses (??? what's the plural of kudos idk). i hope u guys like it!!! (~:

“Bambam, _no_.”

“Bambam, **_YES_**!”

Youngjae is massaging the knot between his brows. Bambam seems extremely pleased with himself. Yugyeom’s too busy stuffing his face with pizza to give a shit about anything at all.

“You’re absolutely crazy. He…he’s – He’s my goddamn cousin, Bambam! Off limits, I fucking _swear_ to God, no more stalking - _why_ are you such a dirty perv?” Youngjae isn’t one to ordinarily get hysterical but his younger roommate’s always had that effect on people. Drama inspired drama. Such was the way of life. He watches with slight disbelief as Bambam hardly even looks at him, just walks towards the couch to flop next to Yugyeom, unabashedly invading his bubble of privacy by practically crawling into his lap. Yugyeom doesn’t seem to mind.

“ _Reconnaissance_ , darling, isn’t the same as stalking. You make me sound so debauched,” the words flow like water from Bambam’s mouth, and Youngjae watches, a bit awkwardly, as Yugyeom feeds him. As Yugyeom flicks away a dab of ketchup from the side of Bambam’s lips. The way Bambam  _licks_ the ketchup from Yugyeom’s thumb.  

He has to clear his throat. At least Yugyeom musters the grace to look apologetic.

“You have his entire schedule scanned to memory along with his coffee order and were willing to walk his dog - even though you are _allergic_ , Bambam. Fucking. _Allergic_.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “Do I need to repeat myself for the creepiness of your obsession to sink in? Or do I need to bring up last night’s encounter too?” Youngjae knows he’s hit a nerve with the last one, because Bambam’s mechanically snapping his head towards Youngjae, widening his eyes with fright.

“No! No, last night – _Shut up about last night_!” Bambam’s jumping from the couch with a start and walking towards Youngjae and Youngjae knows where this will go if he opens his mouth about it to Yugyeom but Yugyeom himself is intrigued now, and a bit _hurt_ too, Youngjae guesses. Bambam usually tells Yugyeom everything.

“…What? What’s this about? Guys?” Yugyeom’s obliviousness, Youngjae has to admit, is crazily endearing. “Youngjae?”

Bambam is holding his breath. Yugyeom is snapping his head from Youngjae to Bambam and back again.

Youngjae has to pause. Consider the gravity of this situation. But then Bambam’s relentless, and extreme situations call for extreme measures.

“Bambam was-“

“ _DON’T YOU DARE_!”

“Using one of your-“

“CHOI YOUNGJAE I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL BURN EVERYTHING YOU L-“

“Dildos that had come through the mai-“

“HOW DARE YOU!”

“That’s where it went, Yugyeom, he was fucking himself on one of your toys-“

(Youngjae thinks he hears Yugyeom say a vague, “That’s nice”, but there’s too much commotion and Bambam furiously trying to _murder_ him for Youngjae to pay attention to anything else-)

“SHUT. UP.”

Youngjae does shut up. Only for a couple seconds before -

“ _Jinyoung…ah, h-hyung, right there, Jinyoung-hyung_!”

And this time, the pillow hits him square in the chest and the last thing Youngjae sees before Bambam tackling him to the ground is Yugyeom’s jaw falling slack.

 

* * *

 

“Fucking bitch. You fucking bit me last night,” Youngjae’s gingerly massaging his cheek, still sore from Bambam’s uncompromising slaps. The bite mark stands stark against the pale skin of his neck, and he’s afraid what Jackson-hyung might think of that.

Or worse – _Jaebum_.

“Well, you deserved it. Don’t act like you didn’t,” Bambam’s pushing through the glass doors, waving distractedly at their favourite barista behind the counter. “Yugyeom’s hardly even _looked_ at me.”

“Yeah, well.” Youngjae’s offering his greeting to Mark too, beaming widely before turning promptly to Bambam, eyebrow raised. “You don’t fuck yourself on your roommate’s dick toy and not expect repercussions, Kunpimook.”

Bambam’s cringe is unmistakable. “Don’t call me that. Nobody calls me that. You can’t even pronounce it without fucking it up.”

“Then don’t do stupid shit and fucking bite me like a rabid dog for your own idiocy,” Youngjae says matter-of-factly. “You want to fuck yourself on a dildo to fantasy starring my cousin? Go out and buy your own. Don’t use your best friend’s. That’s just a different level of fucked up.”

Youngjae doesn’t know if it’s his words or Mark’s presence that shuts Bambam up, but it’s successful and he’s heaving a sigh of relief. Mark’s quirking his lips but he doesn’t push it, and Youngjae loves Mark-hyung for his non-interference. Sweet, kind, uncomplicated Mark-hyung.

“Hey, Mark,” Bambam greets, dramatically forlorn. Youngjae’s and Mark’s eye rolls are in synchrony. Bambam’s too busy being pitying himself to notice.

“Hey, kiddo. Youngjae. What can I get you today?” Mark and Youngjae share a look over Bambam’s head and Youngjae’s just shaking his head, mouthing, _it’s not worth it._

“Just a cappuccino, the usual. Bambam?”

Bambam’s sigh is heavy, and “Ohhhhh, you know. An Americano. Throw in an extra shot of espresso. I deserve nothing better, as Youngjae has so accurately pointed out.”

A few beats pass by.

“Double, half sweet, non-fat caramel mocha, then?”

“You’ve got it, Mark hyung!” It’s Youngjae who responds and Mark’s just about to round up their bill when Jinyoung makes his timely appearance at the counter.

Sure, Bambam’s shift from wretched self indulgence to preening like a peacock is stark but Youngjae’s never noticed _this_ before – Mark’s always been tempered, a cushion for Bambam’s recurrent outbursts, but he’s not difficult to read. Not like Jaebum-hyung anyway, and Youngjae’s shuddering at the thought.

It’s subtle but not entirely indecipherable – the way Jinyoung’s eyes nervously pass over Mark, the way Mark’s cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink, the way they smile at each other like total _bros –_ Youngjae knows what’s up.

Bambam’s fucking dense (obviously, as one would expect from Bambam) so Youngjae’s hurried in the rummage for his wallet, in the payment of their bill and in casually dragging Bambam away from something he had absolutely no right in interfering.

Because that was cute. That was ridiculously cute, like something from an 80’s coming of age romantic comedy, and Youngjae doesn’t fuck with perfection.

 

* * *

 

Youngjae’s solving his daily Sudoku when Yugyeom trips in, cheeks flushed and dyed hair standing up at awkward angles. Neither comment on Bambam’s generous mooning, his coffee long abandoned, and Yugyeom knows better to take a sip from that disaster. Youngjae makes a small noise of discontent when his cappuccino falls victim but it’s a routine they’re accustomed to now so Yugyeom doesn’t bother looking sorry about it.

At least Bambam has the grace to offer a faraway greeting and Yugyeom settles for that with a smile far too genuine, one Bambam definitely didn’t deserve. “Your coffee’s going cold, Bambam,” Yugyeom says kindly, slipping into the seat opposite Youngjae.

This was bound to be more exciting than his Sudoku puzzle, so Youngjae folds his paper and places it aside, fingers knitted in his lap. “I don’t _care_ ,” Bambam’s exhale is theatrical, grieved, yearning. There’s a twitch of amusement in Youngjae’s cheek but Yugyeom’s visibly concerned now, leaning forward.

“Why not, Bambam-ah?” Oh, Yugyeom. You _really_ shouldn’t have.

“Jinyoung-hyung…his pants…they’re just so _ridiculously_ tight today!”

Youngjae’s just about stifling his giggles in the palm of his hand when Jackson steps in, Jaebum in tow, and he’s far too distracted by their presence to pay any attention to the commotion at his table. He’s sitting straighter now, very conscious of the coffee stain on his crisp navy shirt, tries to be casual in the tuck of hair behind his ear. Jackson’s far too caught up in his exuberant greeting for Mark, leaning over the counter to place a sloppy, good-natured kiss on his best friend’s cheek. Jaebum though, his eyes scan the café, falling on Jinyoung momentarily and offering him a greeting far less high-spirited but one just as sincere before catching Youngjae’s.

It’s pathetic how his cheeks immediately flare up but they _do_ –he’s weak, easy, a fly caught up in their greasy trap. He’s hurriedly looking away, finding a great deal of interest in the calluses on Yugyeom’s hands and tries to look as unperturbed by their presence as possible.

Youngjae looks up when Jackson chimes his farewell, Jinyoung’s voice carrying over the crowd to offer his own. He’s startled to find Yugyeom looking at him inquisitively though, tilting his head as if he understands what’s going on but isn’t perceptive enough to piece the puzzle together.

Bambam’s melodramatic complaints - from Jinyoung’s crotch to his impending homework - are quick to distract Yugyeom though, and Youngjae returns to his unsolved Sudoku with a restrained sigh.


	2. ii.

Youngjae generally doesn’t allow the hassles of university life bother him. As micro-blogging websites have reminded him time and again, nothing can’t be solved with a well-managed study timetable and an aesthetically pleasing (but entirely too expensive) planner. He has both and they usually, surprisingly enough, keep his schedule organised and wits intact. Today though, he sits a forlorn lump at the coffee shop, highlighters in every shade of the rainbow and spiral bound notebooks a haphazard mess before him, laptop steadily dying in absence of its life support. Youngjae swears he’d shoved the charger into his bag along with the rest of his study material but it’s not to be found _anywhere_ now – tragic, considering he’s got an essay to submit within the next three hours or so.

He’s this close to admitting defeat and just hibernating for the remainder of the semester when he hears a chair creak by his side. His head snaps up, startled – Yugyeom’s out on a date, Bambam’s too busy trying not to be bitter about it and...that's about the extent of his friends circle, really. He finds Jaebum though, looking oddly sheepish, scratching the back of his neck with a small smile. Youngjae can feel his heart reducing to a pile of smitten goo and attempts, in vain, to steel it.

“May I?”

_Kiss my face off and declare me your one and only? Yes. Yes, **please**._

Jaebum has to clear his throat for Youngjae to snap out of it. “Yes!” he says hastily, nodding his head in apology. “Sure, yeah. I was just…lost…” - _in the abyss of your dark eyes_ – “…elsewhere.”

For all his hawk-like shrewdness, Jaebum doesn’t read into it much and Youngjae’s exhaling a sigh of relief as Jaebum nods in silent gratitude, slipping into the seat opposite Youngjae. He pauses to assess the cataclysmic state of the table, lips curving in amusement, and he raises a questioning brow at Youngjae, folding his hands in his lap. 

Youngjae’s this close to pouting – Jaebum _is_ his favourite hyung, after all, but he doesn’t give into temptation. He runs a weary hand through his hair though, eyes squeezing shut for a second or two, and raises his arms in defeat. “I have this assignment for Biochemistry due at 10, my laptop’s almost dead and I have no idea where my charger is.”

“…You can just borrow mine, then?” Before Youngjae can protest against it, Jaebum’s hurriedly digging through his messenger bag, bangs flopping over his eyes. Youngjae resists this acute urge to push them aside and stills himself in his seat, feeling considerably more hopeful and less hateful towards the world already.

(And it has nothing to do with how the industrial lights shine a hazy, bronze glow around Jaebum. Nope.)

“You’re my savior, hyung. You know that, right?” Youngjae’s shoulders don’t feel as heavy anymore, and Jaebum’s passing him the charger with a smile as broad and feverish as his own.

“Psh,” but Jaebum’s still grinning and Youngjae can easily see himself getting lost in that beam. “Consider it bribery for what I’m about to request from you.”

Youngjae’s sitting up straighter now, heart thudding against his ribcage, eyes wide in inquiry. He’s considering the worst outcome from here now – _stay away from Jackson, stay away from me, stay away from both of us_ (or, at least!) _don’t use as much teeth the next time we corner you in the gym locker room_ – but what he gets is nowhere close. “You want me to what, now?” he’s only asking because he’s _certain_ he’s heard Jaebum wrong.

“Dinner. Jackson and me. You. Saturday? We were supposed to invite you together but practice has been kicking his ass lately – who knew fencing could be so high maintenance, huh?” Jaebum’s chuckling nervously now, clearing his throat, flushing a pretty pink. _Interesting_. “But you can totally decline the invitation, of course, we’d under-“

Youngjae’s cutting him off with a fervent nod though, finding his tongue again. “Yes,” he’s blurting out, strangely out of breath, like he’s been holding it all this while. “Yes, I’d love to. I mean, I’m sure I don’t have anything better to do than…babysit Yugyeom and Bambam, aha, and…” _Is this happening? Is this even real?_ “…I’m looking forward to it.”

 

* * *

  

It’s ordinary enough to sit alone at a coffee table with nothing but a charger to keep you company but potentially weird if you’re _stroking_ said charger like a treasured lover. This is how Mark finds him, a mug of cappuccino for Youngjae and a mug of his own favourite brew in his hands. Youngjae snaps out of it, hastily elbowing the charger and his strewn books aside to make space, and he blushes scarlet as Mark does nothing but place the mugs on the table with a knowing smile.

“You shouldn’t have,” he says a couple beats later, realizing Mark wasn’t going to open the conversation. “Thanks, though.”

Mark’s laugh is short but there’s colour rising to his cheeks. He ducks his head shyly, runs a hand through his styled hair and shrugs awkwardly. “Thank you, actually. I didn’t really think Jinyoung was interested in me.”

“I did nothing!” Youngjae exclaims in response, putting his hands up in conciliation. “I mean, I just mentioned that you were single and very much into boys with a fondness for paperbacks and boat shoes.” His grin is boyishly lopsided though, and he hides it behind his coffee mug, tentatively taking a sip from it.

“ _And_ you gave him my number,” Mark adds with a raised finger, inattentively swirling a stirrer in his coffee. “He’s…even more charming over text. Like…” He’s cutting himself short, shaking his head with a spurt of a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry. The date just went really well, is all, and both Jinyoungie and I want to thank you for sneakily setting us up.”

As if on cue, Youngjae’s phone buzzes with a text from Jinyoung and he’s shoving the phone into his pocket before Mark can catch sight of the gazillion heart eye emojis. He’s thoroughly on board for embarrassing Jinyoung to his potential boyfriends but maybe when Mark experiences first hand of what a dork he could be. Honeymoon phase and all that.

"Oh, by the way, Jackson wanted me to give this to you," and Mark pulls out a bright pink shopping bag from backpack, handing it to Youngjae. "Don't worry - I haven't peeked."

Youngjae can feel his heart thudding in his chest and a strange knot forming in his stomach. He's hesitant in picking it up, pulling the jute handles aside just enough to get a sneak in. He doesn't trust Jackson's craziness to confidently open it in public and rightfully so - he's practically choking on his splutter of surprise, hurriedly tightening his grip around the neck. 

"What is it?" Mark asks, curiosity piqued, and Youngjae's _certain_ he doesn't want the right answer.

"Chocolates," he replies lamely, pressing his lips together before smiling forcefully at Mark. "I've been pestering hyung about them _forever_." Mark knows he's bluffing and quips a suspicious brow at that but he supposes it's _significantly_ better than telling the truth. 

He wonders if the panties are even in his _size_. Fuck.

 

* * *

 

Youngjae trips into the apartment at 9:30pm with a smile so elated (80% from successfully completing his essay, 20% because yeah okay, he's got a panty kink too), it stands an awkward contrast to…whatever was clogging up the room. He’s no aura reader but something is Up – Bambam’s not lounging in Yugyeom’s lap, for starters, and that’s reason enough to worry. He sits far, far away, actually immersed in the splay of books around him. It might be a show though, knowing his roommate, and he makes his way towards Bambam, curious.

He was right. The book’s upside down.

Bambam’s too busy playing the earnest student to pay much heed to Youngjae’s stifled chuckle - his lips furl in irritation but his reaction ends there. _This is weird,_ Youngjae thinks, heightened mood just dampening slightly. He turns to Yugyeom, who’s very determinedly paying attention to the box of pizza on the table, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. It’s eerily quiet except for the patter of Youngjae’s boots against the teakwood floor – he’s certain that’s a cicada singing in the distance – and he decides on Yugyeom as his victim. There’s definitely something going on here and Youngjae knows better than to tickle Bambam’s already agitated nerves. That never ends well.

“What’s up between the two of you?” Youngjae slides next to Yugyeom, stealing a slice of pizza only to pick absently at the crust. Yugyeom doesn’t look…angry, really, as much as he does gutted and Youngjae _almost_ feels bad for finding entertainment in this.

“Ask him,” comes the half-hearted snap, and Youngjae can see Bambam stiffening from the corner of his eye, still hunched over his textbook. There’s a heavy lull in the air and Youngjae’s too afraid to break it. He’s realizing he’s probably dragged himself into a mess he probably should’ve stayed out of because Bambam’s tearing up now, Yugyeom seems more rattled than he was moments ago and…yeah, time to leave. Definitely time to leave.

“I can’t believe you’d do that to me, Bambam,” Yugyeom starts from next to him. He sounds torn but he hasn’t raised his voice yet – he rarely ever does, especially with Bambam – but the sharp agony in his voice somehow makes it worse.

“I didn’t – I wasn’t there for you, Yugyeom. I swear!” Youngjae decides it’s about time he makes his exit, slowly inching up from the couch, but Yugyeom’s pushing him aside to get a better look at Bambam, brows pulled intently.

“Oh, so you were there to stalk Jinyoung hyung, then?” Yugyeom replies rigidly, dragging the words out with barely contained derision. Youngjae’s widening his eyes now, whipping his focus to Bambam, throwing up his arms in disbelief.

“Bambam, _dude_ -“

“It’s not _like_ that, Yugyeom,” Bambam’s this close to pleading now and he’s rising from his chair, exhausted, as if he’s already had this conversation with Yugyeom before. He looks helpless, the way he draws the back of his palm across his forehead, exhales in defeat. “I didn’t mean to ruin your date. I’m sorry about what I’d said about her earlier too – Yerin is lovely and I was just – “

“Jealous? Is that it?” Yugyeom’s straight up scornful now, his towering height and furious gaze entirely too intimidating for Youngjae to continue being willingly sandwiched between them. “Were you jealous and _bitter_ that someone other than you had my whole hearted attention for more than a minute?”

Youngjae’s creeping away now, silent and steady, not wanting to draw any at all. He tells himself this isn’t his fault, that his simple inquiry wasn’t reason for this downward spiral, that maybe they need to talk about whatever’s going on (and figure out what the fuck Bambam was doing stalking Jinyoung anyway – wasn’t he on a lunch date with Mark hyung earlier?). “That’s not fair. I couldn’t just stand there with Mark hyung and Jinyoung hyung looking at me like I’d grown an extra head. I had to come up with an alibi – “

“Very well knowing that it’s the same restaurant Yerin and I were having lunch at, too,” Yugyeom’s scoffing humorlessly now and Youngjae wants to do nothing more than hide under a fortifying pile of blankets. Maybe drag Bambam under with him, just to remind him that he is indeed loved in spite of all his follies. “And then deciding to prolong your visit at the table by throwing your weight around and making passive aggressive statements about her dress. Real nice, Bambam. A very gentlemanly move.”

Youngjae’s managed to shut his door without a squeak but he can still hear them. The argument only intensifies and it doesn’t take more than a handful of angry minutes for Bambam to break into sobs, for doors to bang heatedly in succession before an uncomfortable silence sets in. He twists the doorknob, guilt heavy in his stomach and considers the half eaten pizza. 

..and proceeds to steal said pizza.

He’s a terrible person, he knows, but maybe that guilt’s just _really_ intense hunger. 


	3. iii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so!!! after 23049010 years, i'm finally done w this rambly mess. i hope u guys enjoy it!!! xo

Youngjae doesn’t generally start Sundays watching his cousin aggressively make out with one of his closest friends. He suspects it could be worse – Jinyoung’s and Mark’s PDA isn’t close to being as scandalous as some he’s been unfortunate enough to witness in the past but it’s _still_ justifiably uncomfortable, considering they’re the ones who asked him out for brunch.

You can only avert your gaze _so_ much before other people begin to look sympathetically in your direction and Youngjae’s driven to clear his throat, politely and unobtrusively at first but they’re either too engrossed in sucking each other’s faces off to hear him or don’t pay much importance to him because they’re _still going at it._ It’s only a bit irritating but he’s passed awkward now, wandering dangerously close to Mortified territory, and the second time he clears his throat, it’s not as nice. Accompanied by a few choice words, too. ”I’m really happy for you, I truly am but…that can’t be too good for your lungs, no?”

And it’s like they’re being sucked away from each other by invisible forces, cheeks flushed and lips swollen and hair in disarray. Youngjae’s the one who set them up, after all, he’s _beyond_ happy. His exasperation is justified though, and they look apologetic enough for him to let it slide, just this once. Let them bask in the glow of their honeymoon phase.

“Ah, Youngjae…” Jinyoung’s scratching the back of his neck, graceful enough to sound sheepish, “Sorry, we just get…carried away. You know what it’s like, don’t you?”

Youngjae’s mind drifts to Jaebum and Jackson, visibly blushes at last night’s proceedings. Yeah, he _definitely_ does but it’s not something he’s inclined to share with his hyungs (and about their best friends, no less). Instead, he finds a worthy enough change of topic, settling on gossip that’s been running through their circle for almost two weeks now. ”I don’t,” he sighs, distress genuine because he’s _too_ close an onlooker to the whole debacle, “I’ve been too busy wiping Bambam’s tears away and consoling Yugyeom over the mess with Yerin.”

”He never did like her too much, did he?” chimes Mark, taking a swipe from Jinyoung’s red velvet, earning him an affronted strike on his wrists for it. He licks the frosting away with a mischievous grin at his boyfriend, waggling his brows before continuing, “I mean, I always thought he was too enamoured of Bambam to even consider other people.”

Youngjae shrugs, poking his fork at Jinyoung’s red velvet too, scooping a mouthful. “It was a valiant enough attempt to get over Bambam, I suppose,” he muses, ignoring Jinyoung’s glare. ”They’re being so ridiculous about this, though. I’m, like, constantly going between them to deliver petty messages.” He pauses, taking a massive bite from his croissant, “Plus, they’re working on this assignment for school together and it’s just…maddening, really, but it’s just best in everyone’s interests if I play mediator, you know?”

It’s not bad as he makes it sound, really, but it’s comforting when Mark and Jinyoung look sympathetically at him. The moment’s sort of ruined when Jinyoung gasps in surprise though, blood rushing to his cheeks, and he’s looking over at Mark, a devilish smirk tugging at his boyfriend’s lips. Youngjae raises a brow, craning his neck to get a look at what’s happening, finds Mark’s hand under the table and pulls away immediately, a bit scarred by the _possibilities._  

“You know what...” he says decisively, wrapping his croissant in a paper napkin and grabbing his messenger bag with his free hand, “I’m gonna leave and I think it’s fair that you pay for my meal. You can continue…whatever the hell it is you guys were doing in my absence. Call me when your hormones aren’t shooting through the roof.” Jinyoung attempts to protest feebly but he swallows, words stuck in his throat, shifting in his seat as he whacks Mark’s hand away.

As he walks out, he catches Mark and Jinyoung slipping from their seats, plates of food abandoned - heading towards the bathroom, Youngjae suspects. He can’t help but shiver in repulsion.

Youngjae doesn’t generally start Sundays picturing his cousin in compromising positions but he supposes it’s just his day for firsts.

 

* * *

 

While he’s proud of his stint with Jinyoung and Mark, Youngjae’s never been much of a matchmaker. Grudging pacifist, yes, but his love life’s always been rather non-existent – so, of course, he has _no_ idea how to get his best friends together. He can foresee it being weird as heck already, more so than being just an unwilling victim to Jinyoung’s and Mark’s makeout sessions. Bambam’s not too well versed in _boundaries,_ Yugyeom’s prone to idiocy when it comes to Bambam and worst of all, he’s got to _live_ with them. As in, potentially be an accidental onlooker to his friends getting on, _hear_ things at 3 in the morning he’s not prepared for, have to pacify drama he _knows_ will only worsen with them actually being in a relationship.

Still, he’s a dutiful friend, and he’s not as attentive to Bambam’s whines this evening only because he’s trying to brainstorm schemes to get them together. He’s slacking twenty minutes into it though, and Bambam’s tugging at his sleeve petulantly, lower lip jutting out. ”You’re not even listening to meeeee,” he sulks, having the _gall_ to be accusatory about it, as if Youngjae’s not trying his hardest to sort their mess. ”Do you even care, Youngjae?”

Youngjae’s not one to get livid often – vexed, sure, and that’s because he’s got dumbasses for friends but his threshold for anger is pretty high. He’s exhausted though, from trying to speed write an essay before submission to working overtime for a friend to playing owl for his roommates. It’s only seven and he’s sleepy, cranky because he couldn’t find Jaebum or Jackson at the gym today, and Bambam’s a handful to deal with already and this is just getting a _bit too much_.

”You little – I’m the one trying to sort your shit out because you’re too proud to admit that you’re in love with your best friend!” he exclaims, roughly pulling his arm away, a bit softened by how _comically_ astonished Bambam looks by his outburst. He’s rising to his feet, the other too stunned to reply, so he charges on before words catch up to Bambam again. ”And he’s in love with you too, you know, so get your act together – Also, I’m not your owl so next time you need to send a message to him, do it yourself!”

He’s about to storm out, ears burning tomato when he realizes it’s _his_ room, this close to yelling at Bambam to get out when he notices how wrecked Bambam looks, as if…he didn’t realize he was in love with his best friend? That can’t be possible. No one can _possibly_ be that dense.

”I’m…in love with Yugyeom?”

Youngjae swallows. Bambam never quite fails to surprise him, does he?

He doesn’t reply, letting the tense silence stretch like a canyon between them, biting his lower lip as he watches a tide of emotions pass over Bambam’s features.

”Holy shit…” the younger’s breathing out, splaying a hand across his face. ”I’m in love with Yugyeom.”

And Youngjae’s not given much time to respond, really, because Bambam’s jumping to his feet now, alight with realization, and he yelps in surprise as the other’s hands catch his shoulders, shaking him vigorously. ”Bambam, what the _hell_ – “Youngjae sounds strangled, trying to pull away but Bambam’s nerves are vicious.

”Shitshitshit, what do I do?!” Bambam’s voice drowns his, bereaved, ”I _do_ love him, Youngjae, what do I _doooo_ – Oh my god, how do I fix this?!” He pauses, gulping, and Youngjae thinks that’s his opening but, “How do I _fix_ this!!!” Apparently not and Bambam’s screeches have evidently overpowered every other sound coming from their apartment because neither had heard the front door click open or Yugyeom’s feet scuffle towards the deranged noises or knuckle strike against door because he’s _standing_ there, Bambam’s back towards him. Youngjae spots him, widens his eyes in alarm, attempts to signal his presence to Bambam but the younger’s too feverish to stop now. ”I _love_ Yugyeom, Youngjae, he is _mine_ – Oh god, he’s probably going to marry Yerin and have adorable full Korean babies with her ohmygod I can’t _deal_ with this – I deserve his adopted babies, not _Yerin_ with her questionable taste in fashion and visible crush on _her_ best friend – Jimin likes her too, did you know that!”

And he’s glad for human anatomy because Bambam’s lungs finally give out, the younger heaving for oxygen, and Youngjae doesn’t even try anymore. He’s looking at Yugyeom look at Bambam and Bambam’s oblivious to all of it, arms dropping miserably to his sides.

”I thought you hated children,” come the soft words from the giant standing at the door, cheeks blushing cotton candy, so miserably confused.

Bambam’s frozen in his spot, too terrified to whirl around, and it’s getting a bit too ridiculous for Youngjae to stomach sober.

 

* * *

 

“And that’s how I ended up being the unfortunate soul who had to witness his friends tear at each other’s clothes. Again,” Youngjae sighs hours later, head resting on Jackson’s bare chest, the other’s hand carding affectionately through his raven hair. Jaebum’s laugh resounds from the bathroom and Youngjae scowls, whacking Jackson’s arm morosely when his body rumbles with a chuckle, too. “Stop mocking my plight!”

”We’re not, Youngjae-yah, honestly!” Jaebum peeks from around the door, a towel slung loose around his hips, ”I just find it hard to believe, though – did they start making out _right after_?”

Youngjae glances sideways to find Jackson looking at him curiously too, trying in vain to stifle his amusement. He pouts again, incentive enough for Jackson to lean forward and press an apologetic kiss to his cheek. ”Well, not _right after,_ obviously. They yelled for a bit, spoke to each other for a bit – Bambam didn’t let me leave until their shit was sorted out _but_ they just went at it like starved beasts after that! With absolutely no consideration for the guy who practically made it all possible!”

They chortle heartily at that, and Youngjae can’t help but fold his arms sullenly, sitting up straight now. Jackson attempts to pull him closer but Youngjae glares childishly at him, poking a bicep. ”This isn’t funny!” he whines, such a _child_ when he’s around them. ”I live in a madhouse!”

He resists Jackson’s tugs eventually though, allowing the older to pepper kisses all over before catching their lips together, playful until he’s deepening it, hands now cupping Youngjae’s cheeks fervently. It’s barely been fifteen minutes since their last round but he feels himself getting aroused already and it’s all a bit dizzying, to be honest. He jumps when Jaebum presses against him, a loving hand stroking his back, running indulgently through his hair, yanking him back a couple of seconds after to pull him away from Jackson, _devouring_ his mouth.

”Good thing we’re here then, huh?” Jackson’s murmuring by his ear, a tanned hand on his chest, trailing _downdowndown_. Youngjae moans against Jaebum’s lips, the grip in his hair still merciless. ”Good thing we’re here.”

And for all his complaints, Youngjae can’t help but nod weakly, sighing at Jackson’s ministrations.

Good fucking thing.

 


End file.
